The Guitar Curse
by SuperFlashGirl
Summary: The skull guitar will never be held by another de la Cruz for as long as it still exists.
1. Chapter 1

**The Guitar Curse**

 **Coco**

 **SUMMARY: The skull guitar will never be held by another de la Cruz for as long as it still exists.**

 **NOTES: Inspired by a picture drawn by demonoflight on tumblr.**

 **WARNINGS: Maybe a few spoilers for the movie.**

* * *

On an old bench in the plaza sat a boy wearing a blue shirt. He strummed a guitar and hummed the words to a song Miguel couldn't quite remember the name of. He didn't quite recognize the new face, but he looked friendly enough to approach.

" _Hola_ ," the Rivera greeted, "I'm Miguel. I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"Marco," the guitarist smiled, "My family and I just moved here from Mexico City actually."

Marco's family was so full of musicians that it was practically in his blood. His parents owned a music store where they both taught lessons and his older brother and sister were in college studying music. He had a cousin who wanted to star in musicals, one who was a songwriter, and another who played violin for an orchestra. He also had an uncle who was a mariachi that married a dancer. His grandfather was a conductor who married a cellist. His great-grandmother was a dancer who had a child with a musician she performed with.

His family had moved to Santa Cecelia because one of his other cousins was getting married there and they thought it was a nice town. The people were friendly and the streets were filled with the most beautiful art and music a person could ever see. It was also the home to one of the most famous musicians of all time and helped inspire other artist create some of their best works.

Marco came back to the plaza just like Miguel does every day and they spoke and played more.

"Your great-great-grandfather was Hector Rivera," Marco asked excitedly.

"Yeah," Miguel smiled.

"That's so cool! He's one of the greatest songwriters of all time. I want to be just like him someday, or at least write like he did. I don't think I'd want to become friends with someone like de la Cruz."

"Well then you're lucky to have become friends with a Rivera."

The two grinned and talked about their favorite songs for an hour.

* * *

As time went by the friendship between the two musicians grew. Marco was smart, charming, loved music, knew how to play the guitar, piano and sing, and was so nice to everybody he met. The Rivera family had fallen in love with him the day they were introduced, especially Abuelita Elena. The Riveras had welcomed Marco to their family with open arms.

Marco's family had become close to Miguel as well. They loved how sweet he was and his friendship with their youngest. The two teenagers would meet at the plaza everyday and sing, dance, and help each other write new music.

They were always so happy when they were together.

* * *

On a cool November evening, Marco and Miguel sat in the Rivera residence tuning their guitars. The pair had signed up to play a duet in the annual Dia de los Muertos talent show at the plaza. Miguel wore a red charro suit while Marco wore a matching one in blue. They still had a good amount of time before the show, so Miguel decided to introduce his ancestors to Marco.

"Marco, this is Tia Rosita, Papa Julio y Mama Coco, those two are Tios Oscar y Felipe, right there is Tia Victoria, and up there is Mama Imelda y Papa Hector."

"It's good to meet all of you," Marco smiled.

The offrenda looked similar to the way it always did. Photos carefully placed on the table next to food and drinks, marigold petals, etc. Socorro had asked Miguel to help her write a letter to their family, so to the left of Mama Coco's picture was a letter asking about what the Land of the Dead was like, questions about their favorite foods and colors, and if they liked the flowers on the offrenda. On the back was a hand drawn family photo in crayon.

However, the thing that caught Marco's eye the most was Hector's guitar. It had been removed from de la Cruz's tomb two years prior and rightfully given to the Riveras. Miguel loved it and only ever played it on special occasions, like on Dia de los Muertos when the whole family was celebrating together. He planned on playing it after the show actually.

Marco started in awe at the white guitar. _"No creo que haber visto una guitarra tan hermosa en mi vida."_ There was a pause before the boy asked, "Can I hold it?"

Miguel was hesitant at first. He was the only person who ever played it and never really liked when anybody else even wanted to touch it. As much as hated to admit it, he once let his cousin Rosa hold it and strum a few strings, and the entire time he kept thinking, _"Don't break it. Don't break it. Don't break it,"_ until his cousin handed it back to him. But, Marco was his friend and an experienced musician. He treated his own guitar as if breaking it would literally kill him. He could trust him with Hector's guitar.

For a few seconds.

What could go wrong?

He took the guitar off its stand and handed to Marco. Marco held it in his hands like it was made of the most fragile glass. He felt connected to it. Without even thinking Marco strummed the guitar and Miguel had a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time.

The marigold petals glowed around them and Miguel immediately knew what had happened.

Somehow Marco had gotten the two of them cursed.

* * *

 **Please correct any Spanish that I might've screwed up. I am not as fluent as my dad and grandma and it would be way to awkward now to ask them how to say something in that language.**

 **SPANISH: "No creo que haber visto una guitarra tan hermosa en mi vida."**

 **ENGLISH: "I don't think I've ever seen such a beautiful guitar in my life."**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Guitar Curse**

 **SUMMARY: The skull guitar will never be held by another de la Cruz for as long as it still exists.**

 **NOTES: None**

 **WARNINGS: Maybe spoilers for the movie.**

* * *

Marco hadn't noticed the glowing marigolds, nor the odd feeling that swept him when he strummed Hector's guitar. With the instrument in his hands he just felt bliss and butterflies. Then he opened his eyes and saw Miguel's face.

"What did you do," Miguel asked. He looked scared and there was an orange glow around him. There was a glow around him and the guitar too.

"Que?"

"You know what," Miguel shook his head, "it doesn't matter. We need to go. Right now."

"You're right, the show's going to start soon. We need to get to the plaza," Marco was about to put the guitar down before his friend stopped him.

"We're not going to the plaza," Miguel said grabbing Marco's hand, "we're going to the cemetery. And bring the guitar."

"Why?"

"Because, somehow you playing Papa Hector's guitar got us cursed to the Land of the Dead and if this is anything like what happened the last time, we only have until sunrise. Now, do you know of any relatives who are dead that'd be willing to give you their blessing?" His voice sounded slightly panicked as he led his friend out of the offrenda room, still with the guitar in his hands.

 _"_ _What was Miguel talking about,"_ thought Marco.

It was already getting dark as the two boys left Rivera Zapatera. Families were on their way to the cemetery and dropping marigold petals to guide dead loved ones to their family's offrenda. Men, women, and children wore colorful clothing and some had their faces painted to look like skulls.

Lastly, while invisible to the human eye, skeletons were beginning to rome the streets of Santa Cecilia. Miguel was fine being surrounded by skeletons. It was scary for him the first time when he was twelve, but having to spend an entire night in the Land of the Dead and meeting his ancestors made him realize that it wasn't that bad. If anything, he's more scared of turning into a skeleton before he's old enough to be dead. Marco on the other hand started hyperventilating the moment he saw a family of skeletons in front of them.

"There are skeletons," Marco nervously followed his friend, clutching Hector's skull guitar.

"Si," Miguel replied.

"There are skeletons," repeated Marco.

"You already said that."

"There are skeletons."

"Marco, they're not going to hurt you."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do, now we just need to get across the bridge and ask our familias for their blessings to send us home."

"How do you know this?" Marco stopped following Miguel. Screw his fear of skeletons, he needed to know what was going on and how Miguel knew all of this.

The young Rivera turned to his friend and explained.

"Two years ago, I attempted to borrow Papa Hector's guitar, but after I touched it I was cursed to the Land of the Dead and told that the only way to send me home was to receive my family's blessing. I also had to be given their blessing before sunrise or else I would turn into a skeleton and be stuck there forever. Mama Imelda was willing to give it to me, but only under the condition that I never play music again. So I decided that if none of them would give me their blessing without conditions, I would go to Ernesto de la Cruz and ask for his blessing because I stupidly thought he was my great-great-grandfather. On my way, I met a skeleton named Hector, and we eventually learned that he was my real great-great-grandfather and that Ernesto murdered him. Long story short: I barely got my family's blessing before sunrise, which is why we need to find our dead families now."

Marco had no words. If it weren't for the fact that the two boys were surrounded by skeletons Marco would've thought Miguel was crazy. That kind of thing only happened in fairy tales and movies, but at least now he knew what was going on.

"Dante," he heard the red wearing musician call out. A xolo dog ran towards them, cheerfully wagging its tail. Miguel pet the dog and called him a good boy before asking, "I need you to take Marco and I across the marigold bridge so we can get our family's blessings again. Can you can do that boy?" Dante smiled and barked as if answering 'yes'.

They followed the dog to the cemetery. At every tombstone was a family lighting s candle or a skeleton picking up their offerings. Each of them glowing a beautiful shade of orange. In the very front of them though, at the end of the cemetery, was a large bridge made entirely out of marigold petals. It was breathtaking. Neither Miguel, nor Marco could deny that. "Wow."

Marco then saw Miguel's eyes light up as he ran ahead of him. "Papa Hector!"

"Miguel?"

Catching up to a tall, lanky skeleton in a straw hat, Miguel hugged it like there was no tomorrow. And remembering that he was surrounded by skeletons, a freaked out Marco yelped, "Santa Maria!"

Hector looked at the blue wearing charro behind his grandson. He was slightly taller than Miguel, had a mole beneath his lip, and his skin was a shade lighter than Rivera's. He was also clutching the skeleton's guitar and looked like a deer in headlights.

Letting go of his great-great-grandfather, Miguel introduced the two. "Papa Hector, this is my friend Marco. Marco, this is Papa Hector." "Hola," Marco waved. Extending his hand, Hector greeted the new boy.

"It's nice to meet you, Chamaco," Marco nervously shook the skeleton's hand.

"Por que no estas con el resto de la familia," Miguel asked his grandfather. "I saw one of my old amigos from Shantytown," Hector answered, "One of their grandnieces found a photo of them and put it on an offrenda. I stayed behind to talk to him. What happened to you and your friend to end up here?"

"I swear it was an accident," Marco exclaimed. "Miguel gave me permission to hold it, I didn't think anything would happen if I played it. I am so, so sorry."

Hector placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and told him that it was fine. "Chamaco, relax, Dante and I will take you to the Department of Family Reunions and you'll be back home before you know it. Alright?"

Marco nodded his head. "Bueno, vamanos," Papa Hector said as he led the two living boys across the bridge. Everything was going to be fine.

* * *

 **...Or will it?**

 **Spanish: "Por que no estas con el resto de la familia?"**

 **English: "Why are you not with the rest of the family?"**

 **... ... ...**

 **Violet Thropp: I'm glad you like this story and if you think it's good so far just wait until the rest is written.**

 **Donteatacowman: First off I would just like to say that I love your stories. You're a fantastic writer. Thank you for liking this.**

 **Guest: Thank you**

 **... ... ...**

 **I have a headcanon that when Miguel grows up he has an album called "Across the Marigold Bridge." The songs on it are about love, family, music, and if you listen closely to one of them, it's about his adventure to the Land of the Dead.**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Guitar Curse**

 **SUMMARY: The skull guitar will never be held by another de la Cruz for as long as it still exists.**

 **NOTES: This took much longer to write than I thought it would.**

 **WARNINGS: Maybe spoilers for the movie.**

* * *

Crossing the marigold bridge was exactly how as Miguel remembered and even more awesome than Marco could've imagined. With each step the petals beneath them glowed. Dante would run ahead of the family and friend, now looking like the brightly-colored and winged spirit guide that he is. Marco had finally (mostly) calmed down about being surrounded by skeletons and started waving at them as they passed by, and his breath was stolen the moment he laid eyes on the Land of the Dead. Colorful lights shining everywhere, buildings on top of buildings, and the faint sound of beautiful music in the distance. It could almost make a person look forward to the afterlife.

"Welcome back Hector. Anything to declare?"

Hector chuckled awkwardly and the two teenagers stepped forward. The skeleton behind the desk, who Miguel recognized from two years ago, saw the two living boys and reacted the same way he did then. His jaw literally dropped.

* * *

They've been in the Department of Family Reunions for nearly half an hour. They explained to the skeleton, this one a tired, possibly fifty-year-old named Guillermo, that the guitar wasn't stolen, but he couldn't find anything in his book that said otherwise. The only way he knew that a person could get cursed on Dia de los Muertos was by disrespecting the dead and grave robbing was an obvious example of that. The guitar was Hector's, on his offrenda, and Marco had somehow disrespected him by playing it. As far as the skeleton was aware that counts as stealing. However, his book isn't the always clear on what does and doesn't qualify as grave robbing all the time. His grandsons take food off his offrenda every year and _they_ haven't gotten cursed yet.

Hector brought back a copy of the guitar to the land of the dead last year and allowed the one in the living world to be used by Miguel. He didn't really mind who used it though as long as they were careful with it. His grandson then argued that if the guitar technically belonged to him then it also couldn't have been stolen because he let his friend borrow it. Marco just sat there trying not to do anything stupid. He still had Hector's guitar with him and was scared that if he tried to pick it up and play it again he'd end up somewhere worse than where he was now. The discussion between the Riveras and Guillermo ended with the skeleton going, "Fine. The guitar wasn't stolen. I don't care! My shift is finally over. Just contact any late family and ask for their blessings. That'll send you back in no time. I'm going to visit my offrenda and hope _mis tontos nietos_ didn't eat all my pan dulce." Guillermo stomped off and a slightly younger skeleton came for them shortly after.

They sat at the new desk waiting for the skeleton, Arturo, to finish trying to locate one of Marco's family members.

" _Lo siento,_ most of your family are currently visiting other offrendas and three of them are in a different country. Your grandparents said that they planned on visiting Santa Cecilia after seeing your Tia Teodora, Prima Juanita, and Tio Rafael, but the ride from there to here is about six hours depending on the traffic tonight. Do you mind waiting that long?" The skeleton sympathetically glanced at the living boy from his computer. The blue wearing charro pleaded for the worker to find somebody closer. "Miguel and I have a show in less than an hour."

"I'm sorry, but by the looks of it, most of your family are all busy visiting other offrendas. You need the blessing from a family member, so unless you have any other possible family, you'll have to wait."

Marco could already see the bones of his hands becoming visible. It wasn't his whole arm yet, but the sight of it horrified him. Miguel said that they only had until sunrise and it would take hours for his famillia to arrive in Santa Cecilia if they decide to visit. He knew that he and Miguel could possibly wait, but they had been practicing their performance for months. They wrote a song, had a dance, and worked so hard for their first performance on stage together. A part of him wanted Miguel to just receive his blessing from Hector and go home without him, they're parents were probably worried about them by now, but the other part wanted to do something that he knew he would regret. Without thinking, Marco did something he knew he would regret.

"Ernesto de la Cruz," he blurted out.

"What?" Marco couldn't quite tell who it was that said that. Maybe it was all three.

"My great-grandfather is Ernesto de la Cruz."

* * *

 _Maria Solis was a dancer. She would perform with others in beautiful, bright dresses every week behind some of the most talented musicians as they sang their hearts out in stage. Getting to perform during the same show as Ernesto de la Cruz was the best part of her career. To summarize the relationship the two had: they met, had a short fling, then went their separate ways. Not to long after, Maria met another musician who would soon become her husband._

 _Shortly after Ernesto left and she met the new man, Maria learned she was pregnant. Fearing how her parents would react, she and Rogelio got married and said the baby was his. Her parents never found out for three years._

 _It was Christmas 1941. Jose Solis-Garcia was three years old and playing hide and seek with his cousins. One of his cousins decided to hide behind the curtain in the piano room. He was only there for a few minutes when he heard the door open and hushed voices that followed._

 _"_ _Barely even looks like me. Just tell your parents now before they find out themselves."_

 _"_ _Do you have any idea how mad they would be if they found out Jose isn't yours. They'll disown me and never want to see our son again."_

 _"_ _Then tell them who his real father is. Your parents love de la Cruz."_

 _"_ _Ernesto already has a lot of false paternity claims and Mama y Papa would-"_

 _The cousin stopped listening after that. All that went through his head was that his cousin was related to Ernesto de la Cruz. Ernesto de la Cruz! The greatest musician of all time! Instead of being upset when his brother finally found him behind the curtain he started telling him about the conversation he overheard._

 _As you would expect, word quickly spread across the house and to the grandparents. The confronted Maria and Rogelio about it and the two would always answer that it was just the crazy imagination of an eight-year-old. It didn't help much that as the years went by their son would look more and more like Ernesto. Him and his parents would always answer that he probably just had that kind of face, but that didn't stop the rumor from being spread throughout each generation of the family._

* * *

A few years ago, Marco never would've said it out loud, but he never really liked Ernesto de la Cruz that much. He was a talented singer, guitar player, and actor, but it was the man's songs and their lyrics that Marco was a fan of. The boy would spend hours reading and analyzing de la Cruz's music and wondering who his songs could've been about. There was a popular theory that Ernesto was in a relationship before he was discovered and that's who songs like _"El Camino a Casa",_ _"V_ _iento Tintado",_ and _"Hermosa"_ were about, but he would always deny it during interviews when asked about who his former muse had been. But, every one of the man's love songs had to be written by somebody who had their heart stolen, so Marco always thought that when the relationship ended it became painful to talk about.

Like a lot of people, Marco's favorite de la Cruz song was _Remember Me_. The lyrics were so beautiful, but he never liked the de la Cruz version. Marco hated it in fact. Ernesto sang the song so loud and passionately, yet the words always sounded so wrong that way. He's listened to a few covers where the song was sung softer and slower, and Marco always felt like that was the way the song was always meant to be. Not a song really meant for a crowd, but one dedicated to a single person. Sung with love and care as if that song was the last time they would hear your voice.

When news broke about Ernesto being a fraud, it felt like a punch to the stomach. Some kid in Santa Cecilia named Miguel Rivera had told the news that his great-great-grandfather had been the real writer of Ernest de le Cruz's songs and had the evidence to prove it. Despite never caring about the musician that much, Marco _had_ looked up to the man as a talented writer who he aspired to be like someday. After hearing that the musician was a thief he didn't know how to feel about him anymore.

Wanting to be an optimist he decided to look at it as a friend wanting to honor his best friend's memory after his sudden death and began admiring Hector Rivera as the amazing songwriter. Unfortunately, that wasn't so easy to keep thinking after the Rivera family found the long-lost musician's body and poison in the corpse's remains. It was hard for Marco's family to say anything nice about their possible grandfather after that.

* * *

Marco had moved to Santa Cecilia with his family after his prima Juanita's wedding. They loved the town so much that his parents had decided to move there. He met Miguel not too long after he and his family finished unpacking.

He remembered when the red wearing musician had first approached him. He smiled, introduced himself, and the two would end up constantly hanging out at the plaza. He was intrigued when Miguel told him his surname was Rivera and Marco wondered if he could be the same Miguel related to Hector, but didn't think much of it. "Miguel" and "Rivera" were both common names. There were probably dozens of people named Miguel Rivera in Mexico. His suspicion wasn't confirmed until Miguel actually told him.

In an alternate universe, if Miguel and Marco had met years earlier, the boy would've told Miguel about being the possible great-grandson of Ernesto de la Cruz. Miguel embarrassingly confessed to being a fan before he discovered the truth about the late celebrity. Now though, especially with Miguel's grandfather having been murdered by de la Cruz, Marco wouldn't tell anybody about that relation even with a knife to his throat.

Despite the two's family histories though, the boy's friendship was a very positive one. They would talk, sing, play guitar, and help each other write music. They got along great and would hardly be seen without each other.

When Marco was introduced to the rest of the Rivera family, they were instantly taken by him. He was a sweet kid, enjoyed learning about the Rivera family shoe business, and had a shared passion with one of their children. Marco's family had felt the same about Miguel. He was kind and won the family's favor with his love and talent for music. After dinner they spent the whole evening singing and dancing, with Miguel and Marco performing a short song that they wrote together.

Dia de los Muertos was meant to be the two's first performance on stage together. They spent months perfecting the song for that night. Before that they would sign up individually, cheering the other on from the audience or backstage. Miguel letting him hold the white skull guitar had felt like a dream. All he wanted to do was play it for a second. He hadn't expected it to get him and his best friend cursed.

They needed to go home and the only way to get back to the Land of the Living was to receive their family's blessings. Miguel had his great-great-grandfather right next to him ready to hand him the glowing marigold petal. Marco on the other hand had nobody. His entire family was visiting other offrendas with one of them even visiting one in a whole other country. There was nobody to give him their blessing for at least until midnight and he needed to get it now.

If just one relative, who may just be a terrible person, could give him their blessing, then he was going to get their blessing.

* * *

 **Dun Dun Dun. Y'all knew this was coming.**

 **Marco was kind of hard to write for this. Like how do you write a character who never really cared for a person yet still looked up to them in a way? I didn't want it to sound too contradictory.**

 **… … … … … …**

 **MysteryGirl7Freak: They are really close and of course Marco's not freaking out too much. Having a friend go with you with on an unexpected journey and the friend being totally chill the entire time is enough to keep anybody from freaking out too much. Internally though, the two are screaming.**

 **Mysteryfan17: Thank you :)**

 **Atarah Derek: Yup.**

 **Violet Thropp: You are amazing. Don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise.**

 **Astrispecto: Thank you and I will :)**

 **… … … … … …**

 **Guillermo's grandchildren are like 3-8 years old. The family puts an unreasonable amount of food on the offrenda every year. His grandchildren have the theory that if they only take one or two things than nobody would notice, but the skeletons notice. Guillermo is the only one who makes a very big deal over it. The other family members are annoyed, but see it more as a phase that the children will grow out of and plan on stealing _their_ offerings when they die so they know how it feels. Guillermo is looking forward to that day. He really likes his pan dulce.**


End file.
